Dad silently started the car. As we drove away, he glanced at me. My white sleeveless shirt was covered in dried mud, and my hands were marked with small cuts, probably from when I fell earlier. He let out a long sigh before reaching into the back seat and handing me a clean T-shirt.
"Change into this."
Without saying a word, I took off my dirty shirt and put on the clean one. The silence between us felt heavy. Dad still didn't drive. Instead, he cleared his throat as if trying to find the right words.
"Ace..."
I looked at him.
"You know... your mom and I were both close to Isabella."
I frowned in surprise.
"She wasn't just someone we knew," he continued softly. "She was our best friend."
I turned toward him, giving him my full attention.
"The three of us grew up together. We studied at the same school, shared the same dreams, and spent almost every day together."
A small smile appeared on his face, but it quickly faded.
"Isabelle was one of the kindest people I've ever known. She loved books and music. She always wore dresses..." He chuckled quietly. "Especially white ones. White was her favorite color."
I raised an eyebrow.
"And..." Dad scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I liked her."
"What?" I asked, surprised.
He laughed.
"Relax. That was a long time ago."
"Your mom knew about it. But Isabella only saw me as a friend, and I respected that. As long as she was happy, that was enough for me."
His smile slowly disappeared.
"Then one day..."
He stared through the windshield.
"She disappeared."
The air inside the car suddenly felt colder.
"Your mom and I searched everywhere for her. Our classmates helped. The whole town was looking for Isabella."
He paused before continuing.
"But after three months..."
His voice became quieter.
"The police found her bag near the lake."
I felt my chest tighten.
"It was covered in blood. The DNA matched Isabelle."
I swallowed hard.
“They searched the entire lake. Divers went down again and again, hoping to find her body.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “But they never found anything. Not her body. Not any trace of where she went.” He paused before continuing, his voice heavy with sadness. “The investigation remained open for another year before the police eventually closed the case due to a lack of evidence and new leads. Over time, everyone came to believe Isabelle was dead. But without a body, they could never say for certain what had happened to her.” Silence filled the car once again. Dad slowly turned to me, his expression serious.
"I need you to answer me honestly, son."
His eyes searched mine.
"Did you really see Isabella?"
I nodded without hesitation.
"Yes, Dad."
"I know nobody believes me."
I looked down at my hands.
"But Mom saw the picture."
I took a deep breath.
"That was her. I'm sure of it."
My voice shook.
"I just... I don't know if I really saw a ghost..." I paused, my voice barely above a whisper. "...or maybe I'm just losing my mind after everything that happened to David." I stared into the distance, unsure of what to believe anymore.
Dad didn't answer right away. When I looked at him, I noticed how tired he looked. His eyes carried sadness... regret... and anger. I couldn't tell which one was stronger.
"That's the real reason I never wanted you going there," he finally admitted.
“I was afraid you’d end up like David.”
My heart skipped.
"What do you mean?"
Dad gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"David reopened Isabelle's case."
I froze.
"David refused to believe the investigation was over," Dad continued. "He kept digging, searching for answers even when everyone else had given up."
Dad's voice became almost a whisper.
"Before David died... he received a message."
I slowly looked at him.
"The sender warned him."
"If he didn't stop investigating Isabelle's case..."
Dad swallowed hard.
"...someone would die."
I felt my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
"And that message..."
He looked straight into my eyes.
"It mentioned your name."
Everything around me seemed to stop.
My breathing became uneven.
Because of me?
Was David really killed...
...because of me?
Questions flooded my mind until I could barely think. The rest of the drive home passed in complete silence. When we arrived, I went straight to my room and lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Why would David reopen Isabelle's case after all these years? What was he trying to find? What had he discovered before he died? The questions kept circling in my mind, refusing to let me rest. Suddenly, I sat up. There had to be something.
Anything.
I walked over to my study table, turned on my laptop, and waited impatiently for it to boot up. The moment the screen lit up, I opened my browser and, with trembling fingers, typed, "Isabella Missing Case." I pressed Enter, and dozens of old news articles immediately appeared on the screen. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, before clicking on the first one.